i l o v e the damnation
There is no salvation…… and yet
he said,
‘No.’Life is a stream. Physical body becomes a vessel. By the current, time, each is carried. Some moments, a ripple in the great body of water introduces a change to one’s direction, stirring new routes and chance meetings, eventually the inevitable departure. Rains of sorrow and joys bring variations into an already great tidings.
Some moments,
when the tidings are too forceful,
men drown.What could possibly be a greater force than love?
A privilege denied to you, of course.
Either one of them.Proud head would dipped forward, a curt nod granted in acknowledgement if not truly agreeing with the other’s action. Cascading charcoal tresses, falling prey to Gaia’s momentum and men’s force alike, would shift across pale facade, forming a fleshy veil by which carmine irises came concealed. Shifting my weight from on sabaton heel to another, august bearing would draw back. A dismissal clearly stated in words as much as the manner both arms came lacing athwart multiplicities of belts and buckles adorning strong chest. “Is that all… then?”
Snorting lightly, he chooses his words with ease. “Of course not." Turning, he looks around their strange place: is it their mind? A mirror? The coffin resides between them, closed, like a memorial between them. The past remains locked away inside, and he turns his back on it: never forgetting; how could one forget such an obvious and heavy object? but choosing to look beyond the grave, the blight of death on the horizon.
A new day always dons. Stones in the river of time are stationary until someone chooses to pick it up, wash it in blood, give it purpose. Lifestream does not teach a man how to live. "There is always something more.”
They shall remain, of course, after everything is changing. The first to be born, the last to die. I am who Am. I am the Alpha and the Omega; I am the First and the Last. How very ironic, indeed.
A new purpose is the royalty that adorns sable hair, and heavy is the head that wears the crown. In the end, he has decided to help the being he feels so strongly for: he will stay at his side, killing everything. Bathing in blood is disgusting, but insanity will never realize it, now will it?
Looking at the thick door barring his exit from this strange conversation, he hums, unamused. “What is this? Why can we speak?”
via: sanguinesaint, source: sanguinesaint
7 years ago, 16/04/14 | 52 notes
#path of sin: the nightmare; #threads #{380}
ashvalentine16 liked this sanguinesaint reblogged this from dellafine and added:
H o p e is an addiction. There is the h i g h & there is the s u b s e q u e n...
dellafine reblogged this from sanguinesaint and added:
Snorting lightly, he chooses his words with ease. “Of course not." Turning, he looks around their strange place: is it...
istant liked this
valaguavalentine reblogged this from sanguinesaint and added:
“I guess not….. I’m sorry" said before turning around and start walking.
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falsamilitis-blog reblogged this from sanguinesaint and added:
The spike of negativity in his own tone had not been expected, and Cloud knew full-well that Vincent didn’t fully...
tee-loeffel liked this
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